


Hammer of the Gods

by Akiko_Natsuko



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood and Injury, Death, Fights, First Meetings, Grief/Mourning, Guilt, Loss, Memories, Music, Promises, Rebellion, Revolution, War, War Gods
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-10
Updated: 2018-10-10
Packaged: 2019-07-28 07:41:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16237181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akiko_Natsuko/pseuds/Akiko_Natsuko
Summary: With losses piling up and the reality of the situation hitting home, Lúcio finds himself losing hope. Trying to get away and clear his mind, he founds himself encountering someone who might just rekindle his ability to hope. (Pre-Recall)





	Hammer of the Gods

_We are losing…_

       Lúcio had tried to deny that thought for as long as possible. It had been easy in the beginning, back when his words, his music had stirred up the people, rallying them in a way that he had been starting to fear was impossible after years of dealing with local gangs and more recently Vishkar. He had never been blind to the fact that even with people standing behind him, it was going to be an uphill struggle, he was an optimist, probably more than he should be considering everything he had endured, but he had never allowed it to blind him to the reality of the situation. However, the hope that had buoyed him at the start was beginning to fade, the doubts seeping in, curling around him. Vishkar had stumbled at first, caught by surprise by the unexpected resistance they’d faced, but it hadn’t taken them as long as he’d hoped to regroup, and they simply had more resources than his people did, and it was starting to show.

   He rubbed a trembling hand across his face, wincing as he brushed against the graze on his cheek from where he’d been a split second too slow dodging a bullet, grimacing as it came away covered in grime and blood. He knew that he should clean it at least and maybe get someone to look at it, but he couldn’t bring himself to move right now, exhaustion and doubts weighing him down in a way they had never done before. It was too much. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to summon up a song to settle himself, to ease away the fear and uncertainties that were gnawing at him. His mind was blank though and with a sigh he opened his eyes again, letting his gaze wander around the community centre that was currently acting as their first aid centre after the Vishkar had cut off all routes to the main hospital.

   Makeshift beds filled the main hall and several of the larger side rooms, every single one of them occupied, with camp beds and mats being laid out between them as more and more people trickled in seeking help, or just shelter. At first it had been mostly minor injuries, with only a few unfortunate souls taking the brunt of the battles as the Vishkar struggled to rally themselves, but now… there was a tight feeling in his throat as he forced himself to look around and take in the damage, the bloodied faces and haunted expressions, and the makeshift bandages that they were forced to use as their medical supplies dwindled. What was worse, was the row of covered bodies lying by the far wall, waiting to be moved to another hall, and he knew that if he looked then he would recognise many, if not all the people lying there. The tightness in his throat was intensifying as he blinked back sudden tears. Here were people he had grown up with, people who’d rallied to his cause and stood their ground because of his words, he had made a point of getting to know them, hearing their stories, their hopes and fears and now that was all that was left of them.

   He was drawn back to the present by a young boy starting to cry on the other side of the room, and he swallowed hard as he followed the sound to its source. He knew that child, had taught him how to skate, helped with his homework and he felt sick as he took in the slumped shoulders of the adults around the boy who had clearly been working on the woman lying on the bed beside him, and he didn’t need the words to know what had happened. Yet another life gone. Another family torn apart.

_I did this…_

   It was too much, all of it was just too much right now. The walls were beginning to close in on him, echoing with the child’s wails and the softer sobbing of the adults around him, the moans and groans of those lying around them in the other beds. The tightness in his throat increased to the point where it felt as though he couldn’t breathe and fighting back a sob of his own he staggered to his feet, forgetting about retrieving his skates before practically bolting for the door. He didn’t want them to see him fleeing, didn’t want them to think for a moment that he was abandoning them, but he needed to get out…to get away…to breathe. He was so focused on those thoughts and getting away, that he wasn’t paying attention to where he was going, colliding full pelt with the woman who had just entered the hall and it was only her quick reaction that stopped them both ending up in a crumpled heap on the ground.

“Lúcio?” It was only when gentle fingers brushed against his cheek, carefully avoiding his injury that he blinked, pulled out of his thoughts about escaping and focusing on the woman who was now watching him with concern. Anna, her eyes worried as she studied him, frown deepening as he just stared wordlessly at her. She was a reminder of more peaceful times, of happier times from before Vishkar had arrived. She was close to his mother and he had spent many days helping in her shop, running errands and showing her his music as he worked on it. Seeing her here, clothes bloodied from where she had been helping the wounded was a stark reminder that he still had more to lose, more that could still be taken from him. “Where are you going?”

“I’m just going to clear my head,” he managed to reply though numb lips, trying to look anywhere but at her as he caught the knowing glint in her eyes. She had been the one to pull him aside right at the start of this mess and ask him if he knew what he was doing, the cost of what he was planning to do, not disagreeing with his choice to fight or ally their people, but worried for what it might do to him.  What it might cost him. Back then he had brushed it off, riding on the swell of support and the success of the technology he had finally managed to get his hands on, but now... She must’ve realised that he wasn’t ready to say it aloud, to admit just how deep the doubts had crept, because her expression softened a moment later and she settled for brushing his cheek again.

“But you’re hurt.”

“It’s not serious,” Lúcio muttered, sounding less reassuring that he’d hoped to because his voice wavered and cracked in the middle and he pulled back as she opened her mouth to protest. “I’m okay, really and I won’t be gone long.” He wasn’t okay, but he knew that he couldn’t be gone too long, and Anna must’ve realised too because whilst she still looked worried she stepped aside and let him go, and he had to fight the urge to not start running the moment he was past her.

**

   It had taken him longer than he wanted to escape the building, bumping into several more people who wanted to talk to him and as much as he needed to get away from everything and everyone, he couldn’t bring himself to just brush past them. When he finally stepped outside he paused and took a deep breath, feeling some of the tightness beginning to ease now that he was alone and free of that room.

   It was a short-lived reprieve though, because out here the evidence of what was happening was everywhere, blockades lying in pieces on many of the sidewalks, houses and shops boarded up and abandoned, windows shattered, Vishkar signs torn to pieces and singed blowing along the street. Numerous hand-painted banners and signs were strung over the rubble, tattered and torn, but still colourful and defiant amongst the devastation. Many of them bore his name and lyrics from his songs, others proclaiming, ‘Down with Vishkar’ and ‘Freedom’. Beyond them, just down the street he could make out the burnt out remains of one of Vishkar’s crowd-control devices, the truck that had carried it reduced to little more than a twisted pile of metal.

   A newcomer might see those signs, the evidence of their victories and think they were holding their own. Yet if Lúcio was to close his eyes all he could see was his people retreating under the roar of guns and the high-pitched whine of hard-light weapons, he could hear their screams and feel their blood against his kin as they fell around him, and he knew…

_We’re losing…_

****

    The quiet in the streets was unnerving. Lúcio had grown up in this neighbourhood and he was used to the hustle and bustle of life that normally filled the narrow streets. He missed the sounds of the neighbourhood kids laughing and shouting as they played games, complaining when they were called in at the end of the day or to help with chores. He missed the way people would call out to one another in greeting, gathering to talk about local events and exchange gossip, sellers flaunting their wears from the shop doorways. Even during the worst times, when gunshots rang out in the distance and sirens blared there had always been life and noise filling the area, but now the streets were empty, silent.

Dead.

   It wasn’t even a silence that Lúcio could combat right now, not just because he didn’t want to draw people out of wherever they were hiding, terrified that he might lose even more of them even if Vishkar weren’t around at the moment. However, even if he had been willing to take the risk, the music that usually thrummed constantly in the back of his mind was gone as he walked through the streets. Everything that inspired him, that fed into his music was slowly disappearing around him, and he feared that it was another thing that he was going to lose.

_You’ve got to believe…_

   He snorted, darkly amused at how naïve he had been back then and wondering how he was supposed to keep pressing that message, how he was supposed to keep leading his people forwards when his own belief was wavering. He knew he would. It wasn’t the first time he had wavered, although never as badly as this and the thought of admitting defeat…no, he could admit defeat, would even do it in a heartbeat if he thought that it was the only way to protect his people. It wouldn’t though, he knew that even if he said the words and meant them, and took whatever punishment Vishkar levelled at him, it wouldn’t be enough. They would bring back the measures that they had tried to enforce in the first place, probably harsher than ever and if that happened his people would be lost, because who would rise up and fight again if they lost right now? He wasn’t sure that even he would have the strength or belief for that.

   No, he had to keep fighting, keeping moving forward and hope and pray that somewhere along the line they would find something that would tip the balance back in their favour. He just wished that he believed that would happen, and that it would happen soon.

**

   He’d been vaguely aware of the sound of a truck moving slowly up the road from behind him, the sound tugging at the edge of his thoughts especially after the silence, but he hadn’t paid it any mind, too caught up in his thoughts and not keen to interact with anyone at the moment. Now though his head shot up in alarm as the vehicle suddenly accelerated, too fast for it to be any of the locals who were always cautious in this area, wary of the kids running around the roads. Whirling, he sprang backwards as the truck swerved right towards him. As it skidded to a halt, stopping directly where he had been just a few seconds before he spied the Vishkar emblem on the doors and the side, cursing as he backed up, spying movement in both the cab and at the rear of the truck. Fear gripping him as Vishkar agents sprang from the vehicle, completely focused on him.

   Lúcio tensed, scolding himself for not paying attention to where he was going and what was happening around him, especially when he was easily the most wanted figure of the resistance, and when he had wandered further from the community centre than he’d realised. He’d never intended to go this far, but a quick glance around confirmed that he had ventured much further than intended and that there was no immediate escape route, at least not without his skates, which he had also left back at the centre. If he got out of this one alive he was never going to take them off again he decided there and then, backing up until his back hit a fence, attention now riveted on the guns and hard-light blades now pointed directly in his direction, realising that it was a very big ‘ _If’_ right now.

   Their silence was grating on him as they stared at him, weapons never wavering. He doubted very much that they were going to offer him a chance to hand himself over, not when he had been at the forefront of every protest, every confrontation, with the people clearly listening to him over their threats. He’d also see the black bags, heard whispers of people disappearing long before all of this had started, and he swallowed, realising that he was probably going to be joining them. “Let’s get this over with,” he growled, realising that the tightness, the doubt, the wavering was all gone. His path had narrowed down to this moment and as they tensed, fingers moving to the triggers, he finally felt the music bubbling up at the back of his mind once more and he almost laughed. Here he was, probably about to die and all he could think about was the song that he had been plaguing him for days before the recent clash between them and Vishkar. _And no one is going to get to hear it…_

   There was the sharp retort as one of the agents fired at him, and he jerked to the side, just managing to avoid it, but he knew that he wouldn’t be able to dodge the rest and he had to fight the urge to close his eyes and hide from what was coming.

“Get behind me!” The booming voice that cut through the tense silent startled everyone, Lúcio jolting violently whilst the Vishkar agents flinched back, gazing wide-eyed at whoever was behind him. He didn’t dare take his eyes off them, which was why he was caught by surprise when the fence he was trapped against vanished with a deafening crash, a heavy hand landing on his shoulder whilst a shimmering shield appeared in front of him.

   Startled Lúcio fought to escape the hand on his shoulder, only to find himself being easily held in place, leaving him unable to do anything but twist his head to look at the newcomer, protesting as he did so. “Hey, what…” The words died and faded away, his mouth going dry as he took in the giant of a man that was now looming over him, and he had a feeling that it wasn’t just his own size that made this man look big. His eyes darting to the large hammer slung casually over one shoulder and then to the device that was projecting the shield in front of them, both were ancient, especially in the face of the Vishkar technology and yet somehow, he just knew that without a doubt they were stronger.

“I give you a choice my friends,” the man’s voice was only marginally quieter now that he wasn’t shouting, and despite the jovial tone and choice of words there was steel beneath it that had Lúcio tensing, before he realised that the man’s attention was riveted on the Vishkar agents. “Leave, peacefully and I will let you go unharmed. Stay, and…” He finally released Lúcio, his hand moving to free the Hammer, leaving no doubts to his intentions as he slammed it into the ground, the impact making Lúcio stagger slightly.

   Lúcio wanted to tell him that it was pointless, that the two of them were outnumbered and outgunned, but he couldn’t force the words out when he looked up and met the newcomer’s gaze as the giant glanced down at him. There was no hesitation, no fear in the man’s expression, and it wasn’t false bravado, because there was a calmness beneath it, whilst the scarred visage spoke of a life of fighting. Yet, even as it dawned on Lúcio that this stranger meant every word he had just said, he found himself shaking his head and opening his mouth to try and protest again, because he was the one who had walked straight into this mess and he couldn’t let this man get hurt because of his mistakes. _He couldn’t let anyone else get hurt…_ “You…”

   He never got to finish what he was trying to say, because the Vishkar agents seized their moment of distraction to unleash a storm of bullets and hard-light projectiles in their direction. Lúcio ducked instinctively, knowing just what damaged they could do, but nothing hit him, the blue shield shimmering under the impacts as his protector moved to stand directly in front of him. At first, he thought that there was no damage, but as he watched the shield slowly began to crack, the lines spreading across the surface and he tensed, realising that it wasn’t going to hold up much longer and apparently his protector had realised the same, as he glanced at him once more, a stern warning on his lips. “Stay behind me.” There was a loud sound, like that of splintering glass and Lúcio felt bullets tearing past them and heard them smashing into the building behind them, but he paid them no mind, because abruptly he found himself exposed. His protector using the split second in which the shield had fallen to charge forward, and he was now ploughing through the agents as though they were made of paper, not flesh and bone.

   For a long moment all he could do was watch, entranced by the controlled wildness of the man’s movements, the hammer almost an extension of his arm as he moved, one agent falling and then another, whilst one was flung the width of the street with a single blow. _Who is this man?_ He knew without a doubt that they had never met before, Lúcio would remember someone like this, and there was an accent he couldn’t quite place. He certainly wasn’t from around here, and yet here he was, getting involved in Lucio’s mess. Lucio was shaken out of his shock by the sight of one of the agents moving to take aim at his protector’s back, and at once he darted forward, wishing that he had his skates and a weapon, but refusing to stand back and have his battles fought for him.

   He slammed into the agent, knocking them both to the ground, wrestling with the agent until he successfully knocked the gun out of his hands and sent it flying out of reach. The loss of the weapon made the man’s struggles intensify and Lucio found himself grappling with him, wincing as a fist caught his already injured cheek, yet even as he lost himself in the fight, he found himself constantly aware of the bellowing roars and painful sounds of metal meeting flesh from behind him. He wasn’t sure why, but he found a wild, exhilarated smile creeping onto his face as he found himself caught up in the man’s enthusiasm, at least until one shout registered. “Justice will be done!”

_Justice._

   Lúcio’s mind flashed to the signs that had sprung up around his neighbourhood, the orders that had cut off more and more of their freedom by the day, then to the ‘crowd control’ measures that had been used against those that had dared to voice their dissatisfaction with what was happening. He remembered seeing his best friend caught up in one of the earliest protests, sitting by his bed holding his hand as the doctors tried and failed to save his life. He remembered the fear and pride in his mother’s eyes the first time he had spoken out against Vishkar, the tears as she greeted him backstage after his first proper concert. He remembered the people following him against Vishkar, he thought about the first aid centre and the overflowing beds, and the child crying for his mother. He thought about Anna’s worry and the fact that she was waiting for him to return, and the neat row of bodies that he had left behind in that hall, and the wild smile faded away, replaced by a snarl as he drew back his fist and let it fly. Striking again and again, as everything bubbled up.

   He wasn’t sure how much time had passed before there was large hand grasping his wrist, stopping him from striking the agent again, squeezing lightly when he blindly tried to yank himself free. “That’s enough my friend.” The booming voice reached him better than anything else would’ve and he blinked, recoiling when he realised that he was crouched over the agent he was lying bloodied and unconscious under him. It took him a frantic moment, bloodied fingers trembling and slippery as he fumbled for a pulse, relief sweeping through him when he finally found it. The exhilaration was well and truly gone, almost as though it had never existed, leaving him feeling sick and dizzy as he pushed himself to his feet, only to stagger, and he would’ve fallen if the man hadn’t moved to brace him. “My apologies, I fear my enthusiasm may have been too much…”

   Lúcio frowned, not understanding, but he shook his head. “I’m…okay.” He wasn’t sure that he was, leaning into the offered support and taking a deep, shuddering breath. It was too much, everything that had happened earlier, his doubts and now this… his gaze skittered to the agent and way again. He had never come that close to crossing the line he had set himself when he had decided to stand up against Vishkar, and he swallowed convulsively before admitting quietly. “I…” I’m not okay…

“Look at me,” there was a gentle finger under his chin, tilting his face up and not knowing what else to do he obeyed, stilling under the suddenly stern gaze. “You did what needed to be done. You protected me, and yourself, there is no shame in that.”

“But…” _What if I had gone too far? What if you hadn’t stopped me?_

“War is never pleasant.” The man wasn’t young, Lúcio could tell that much, but right at that moment he sounded ancient, a distant look entering his eye as he glanced around them and Lúcio fell silent, watching, waiting, sensing that there was more to come, and he wasn’t disappointed when the man looked down at him once more. “There is pain and loss, and memories that will never fade.” Lúcio thought back once more to the first aid centre, to the battles in the streets, the sight of people being pulled to safety and dying where they had fallen and swallowed hard, he wanted to forget, he wanted the images to fade. “But, there can also be justice and honour. It doesn’t cancel out the rest, but it helps, and with time you will find that the bad things fade whilst the good remain.”

   Lúcio had never wanted to believe in anything as much as he did right then, leaning into the touch against his chin and closing his eyes. _I want to believe, I want to know I’m fighting for the right thing. I want to believe that I’m doing the right thing._ He coloured when he realised what he was doing, eyes flying open as he peered up cautiously at the man. “I’m sorry…” What was he doing? He didn’t know this man, but just as he during the battle, he felt himself being caught up in his words, in his emotion.

“There is nothing to apologise for.” A large thumb brushed his cheek, following the path of his earlier injury and Lúcio blinked as the pain faded, it didn’t disappear completely, but it was enough to make him sigh in relief before frowning.

“What…?”

   The man smiled and shook his head, finally releasing him and Lúcio felt a pang of loss at the distance that appeared between them and he bit his lip to stop himself from protesting, watching the man returned the hammer to its position across his shoulders and examined the device that had projected the shield earlier. “Hmm, I had thought that their technology would prove more damaging,” he sounded bemused, and once again Lúcio had the impression that he was even older than he seemed. “It seems that there is a way to go before I will find my match, although…” For the first time he hesitated, glancing at Lúcio who was watching him with a mix of confusion and longing, and a smile tugged at his lips. “I am glad that I came.”

   Lúcio wasn’t sure what to make of that, although the words warmed him, and he offered a tentative smile of his own before turning sombre once more. “I’m sorry you got caught up in this,” he gestured at the Vishkar agents strewn across the ground around them, wincing as he thought about the retaliation that was no doubt going to follow, even as he swore that he would be more prepared next time.

“Again, no apology is necessary,” the man replied with a small smile, before he turned serious as he followed Lúcio’s gaze and examined the destruction he had wrought. “However, I believe this is where we must part. It would be safer for you to leave this place, and it won’t take them long to discover this loss and you are far from home.”  

 _How? How did he know this?_ Lúcio wanted to ask, but instead he glanced around again and instead he found himself asking. “What about you?”

“They can come for me if they want, this old dog still has some tricks up his sleeve,” his hand moved up to pat the handle of his hammer, as though greeting an old friend, and there was a smile on his face once more as he added cheerfully. “And a very large hammer.” Lúcio couldn’t help but smile as well, having to admit that he wouldn’t be willing to pick a fight with this man, although admittedly he had seen him in action. “That is a good expression.” Lúcio blinked, startled, stilling as a warm hand settled on his shoulder. “As long as you can smile, you can fight and keep moving forwards and as long as you do that, the rest will follow.”

“I…” Lúcio didn’t know what to say, one hand moving to rest over his chest, feeling the last of the tightness from earlier slipping away and a feeling that he hadn’t felt in a while bubbling up in its place. Hope. Was it really that simple? He looked down, hand curling into a fist as he closed his eyes, and this time what he remembered was the smiles, the cheers after those first victories, the relieved laughter and hugs as families and friends reunited, the noise as the neighbourhood resumed its normal pattern with Vishkar no longer able to enforce its rules. _I can make it that simple_ , he realised, lifting his head to thank the man for not only saving his life but giving him back the hope he had thought gone for good, only to come up short when he realised that the man was already halfway up the street.

   He didn’t remember darting forward, one hand outstretched as though he could stop the man, before he came to an abrupt halt…this was his fight. He had to be the one to fight it, and as much as he might want to keep the person who had renewed his hope by his side, he knew that he couldn’t ask for that much, but…. “Wait!” He finally let himself shout, half expecting the man to keep walking, but he paused and glanced back. “Will I see you again?!”

“One day.” It wasn’t necessarily the answer that he had been hoping for, but there was something about those two simple words which made it sound like a promise.

“And…what is your name?” If he couldn’t keep this man by his side, then he at least wanted a name, something that he could hold onto like a talisman against the struggles to come. The man seemed to consider for a moment, and Lúcio bit his lip, wondering if he had overstepped in some way but then the scarred face relaxed into a warm smile.

“You may call me Reinhardt.” It seemed to him that there was some hesitation, as though there was some other name that he wanted to give, and yet Lúcio latched onto it, rolling it over and over in his mind. _Reinhardt_. “I look forward to seeing how far you come Lúcio.” Raising a hand in farewell he turned and continued on his way, and it was only when he was already out of sight, moving surprisingly fast for such a large man, that it dawned on Lúcio what he had said.


End file.
